


The Changeling's Contract

by ChloeWinchester



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, F/M, Fae Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Rating May Change, Shady Blue Fairy | Mother Superior, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChloeWinchester/pseuds/ChloeWinchester
Summary: To keep a changeling from the mortal realm, the Blue Fairy decides to keep the abandoned Rumplestiltskin and raise him as a fairy. A mischievous, dark, mad fairy with no interest in doing anything she says or anything good fairies do. No wings, no wand, no charges to speak of, his reputation proceeds him at every turn. He is feared, he is hated, he is alone. Until he hears the call he never thought possible, a charge for him. A princess named Belle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the tumblr prompt by thestraggletag. Rating and warnings will change!
> 
> Title changed but the song remains the same!!

Once upon a time, a Fairy broke the rules. The laws which had been laid down since the first inception of the Fae Order had been broken, without regret or any sort of remorse. It was a slap in the face to those who followed the edicts so closely for fear of consequence, and a clear act of defiance to the one fairy that could destroy everything with a flick of her delicate wrist. 

The Rhuel Gorm warned this fairy away from her charge, --whom she’d utterly ignored in righting his path, neglecting all morals and honorability entirely-- assuring her that any romantic entanglement with a human would only result in disaster. Fairies were to have no entanglements of any kind beyond the responsibility of caring for a charge, and for good reason. The dust could not be allowed to be used for means of selfishness or personal gain. What would the realm come to if that were so? 

Nevertheless, despite these warnings, the unspeakable happened. 

A Changeling was born into the world of humans. A creature that would be vile, cruel and wreak the utmost havoc on mortals. It would disfigure the laws of magic and destroy all it touched. The Rhuel Gorm faced a dilemma then, looking into the face of this babe, this would-be monster. Drown it? Or keep an eye on it in the closest of proximities? She thought of her options, staring at the twisted weeping face of it, the sound harsh on her ears and not swaying her in its favor.

The mother did not beg for its life nearly as much as she begged for her powers to be her own, and that her wings remain in tact. The Blue Fairy showed her first act of mercy in thousands of years and allowed it, given that she were exiled from the Fae realm forever and never, ever attempted to contact her or this babe -should she decide it worthy of life- again. It came as a surprise the Black Fairy agreed and disappeared without so much as naming the child. 

The father was dismissed with a simple monetary bribe, and the Blue Fairy was convinced then that this thing, born from creatures of greed, malice and desperation, would be tenfold the plague its parents were. Once they were gone, strangely enough, the babe finally stopped crying.

A well nearby provided the fairy of what she was sure was the right thing to do; to snuff out this evil before it grew into something heinous, dark, terrible. She looked into the creature’s face, steeling herself as she readied to drop it into the black, cold water. 

Then he smiled. 

A warm, gentle little smile on his new face, arms waving a bit in attempt to touch her. He cooed and grunted a little until he found purchase on her nose and her hair, a light in his eyes she could not ignore. 

There was good in the child. 

Rumplestiltskin had heard the story a thousand times in his centuries of living with the fairies, always told how grateful he should be that the Blue Fairy didn’t throw him into the well and allowed him a chance at life. Despite his not asking for life to begin with, he was expected to be gracious to her and obey her every whim no matter his own qualms. 

And there was absolutely no damn chance of that happening. 

He wasn’t a good fairy by any means. Sure, enough fairy dust allowed him to live in their realm, to come and go as he pleased. He gained the same abilities, the same penchant and skill for magic and wonder, but it would never be enough to truly make him one of them. He knew it, the others knew it, and if he was only going to be considered part-fairy, why do anything ‘good fairies do’?

His duties were constantly ignored, his charges had to be assigned, and they always ended up cursed, missing an appendage or close to death because he deemed them unworthy filth that should be dismissed from life anyway. It didn’t take long for his official assignments to stop. It didn’t stop him from interfering however.

The Imp, he was called. Making mischief, confusing and addling humans, pitting other fairies against each other just for some entertainment... Wars began over a titter of his warbling voice. He was a menace, a dark wind knocking over dominoes to see which way they might land. What’s more, he took joy in it. He couldn’t be a good fairy anyway, what did guilt matter? 

“You are a disgrace!” Blue snarled, shaking her head at him. “Gods above I should snatch the wings from your back!” 

“You could!” He smirked, leaning back in the sofa he’d draped himself over. “If I had any to begin with, eh, dearie?!” He giggled and disappeared, unable to be controlled by her magic, by anything. 

She was right to think the rules of magic would be changed and warped by him. He had no wings, yet he would disappear and reappear anywhere he pleased with hardly a wink. He’d no wand that would service him as other fairies had, yet magic flowed from his clawed fingers with ease, the power enough to deflect her own. He was erratic, dangerous, utterly insubordinate. The other fairies waited for the day she would finally rid them of this beast. But it never came. They wondered if it was actual maternal care that kept her from destroying him, or perhaps a deal made with the mother to keep him alive. Blue kept him away from prisons because he was...unique. His goodness, his treatment of humans, when it came out when no one was looking, was strange. 

Rumplestiltskin had never even had the call of a human to watch over, not once, and yet… He helped people. 

Anonymously, mostly, in his guise of wickedness, his skin golden and rough, eyes wild and swirling with color, he would offer small bits of help to those who needed it most. A young girl struggling to free herself from an abusive mother was suddenly endowed with a tinny of magic and a spellbook to put her on even ground. 

A shepherd and his wife lost in debt, two babes needing food when they barely had enough for one were given the means to make a sacrifice, to gift one of their children to a woman desperate to be a mother and a man desperate for a son in exchange for never being hungry again. 

A girl married to a king wishing away the bitterness in her heart so as to raise her daughter to be kind and soft to everyone she met was gifted patience and compassion, at the expense of the health of her heart. 

A hatter made thief by circumstance being gifted strands of gold on the same day each fortnight so he could raise his beloved daughter with the comforts she deserved, exchanging only a crystal ball Rumple used to watch various humans in their silly little lives.

The consequences of these little miracles were always told beforehand, and though he did it without orders, consent or guilt, he did bring some good into the world. Which was the only reason Blue didn’t wholly regret keeping him alive to begin with. 

Rumplestiltskin didn’t care if the mighty Blue Fairy found him useful or not. His heart was dark, his hands stained with blood on several occasions, and he isolated himself from the other fairies who treated him like an inferior to begin with. Halfling, cursed, damned, wrong, demon. He knew those words before he could pronounce his own name. They never let him forget what he was, that he didn’t belong, not since he could hear and understand their words and feel the sting of them in his fragile little heart. 

Why shouldn’t he be bitter? Why shouldn’t his heart be encased in marble and hidden away from everyone else? That’s what they wanted, wasn’t it? For him to feel like an outcast, to be so hardened to everything that he would never, ever feel the true calling all fairies felt. The call of a human that would be theirs for their mortal lifetime. A human whose fate was in their hands and would be delicately guided with gentle magic, soft presences and protection. All fairies had their humans, hordes of them over the years, whose happy endings were reached thanks to them. 

Rumple had never felt that before, that connection. He wasn’t a real fairy, why should he feel the way the others did? He should be grateful simply for being alive and living out his purposeless existence with the Blue Fairy’s anger as his only means of happiness. The older he became, the longer he went without this vital piece, the madder he was. The Imp’s darkness clouded his soul and the land he would touch, and he was deemed The Dark One. Feared, loathed, whispered about in the darkest shadows. He was a ghost story, a legend most terrible, and he convinced himself he liked it that way. 

No one can harm you if you’re alone. 

~*~ 

“How is this my doing?!” 

“You gave her magic and you  _ knew _ she was my charge! Now everything’s  _ ruined _ because of YOU!” 

Tinkerbell stomped and icicles flew at Rumple’s head, which he quickly dashed away with the fire blooming in his fingers. 

“I gave her the means to get away from her mother, it’s not my fault she didn’t go for your ‘true love’ stint, now is it, dearie?” He barked, nose to nose with the little blonde. 

“She’s going to take my wings for this, Imp!” 

“Good!” He cackled. “One less plague on the world!” 

“Oh, you bastard, she should’ve drowned you when she had the--” 

Rumple frowned, holding up his hand to shut her up. 

“Hush,” he spat, cocking his head as if he were listening. 

“What the hell are you--?” 

“I said,  _ hush. _ ” He snapped his fingers and took her voice from her, stilling, not daring to breathe.

He felt...something.

Stars burst in his heart, a gentle tingle in the back of his mind that was...odd. It was comforting, soft and warm, dizzying, in fact. He felt something calling him, something wonderful reaching for him. Time stopped. This something touched him like flower petals in a delicate breeze, like warm rain on skin. A quiet, encompassing symphony unlike anything he’d ever felt before. 

The more he lingered on it, the more it took over, this feeling. He saw glimpses of bright, bright blue, muted pink and pages upon pages of a book that never ended. He smelled roses and ink, paper warmed by the sun. He heard music, the rustle of skirts, the gentle splash of a stream. 

Then a name. A name was given to this feeling, this aching thing rooted in his heart and his bones. Belle. 

“I...I have to go,” he whispered, opening his hand to give Tink her voice back and disappeared before she could continue the string of curses she’d been attempting to scream at him. 

He reappeared in a darkened room warmed by firelight. A rocking horse knocked against the back of his leg when he stepped back. Other toys were set up neatly around the room, new and yet to be touched. Folded cloths and pins were stacked neatly on a table opposite him, knitted blankets of pinks and yellows decorating another basket. In fact, most of these items appeared to be gifts and still had their ribbons attached. 

A soft noise drew his attention to a bassinet a few strides away. It was white, draped in lace from the hood to its skirt, a mobile of wooden stars above it. 

He peered into it, eyes locking with the most shocking blue he’d ever seen, blue he’d had visions of not minutes before. He jumped, startled, and looked at the baby lying inside. She simply looked back at him, gaze clear, knowing. Her hair was dark, lying soft against her head, bundled up in a white gown and a blue blanket.

“Hello,” he said very quietly. “So it’s you causing all this, eh? You aren’t bigger than a loaf of bread and you’re ordering me around, are you?” She blinked. He scoffed. “You’ve done a very foolish thing, you know. Calling on me like this. Do you know who I am?” Again, she blinked. “That’s right. I’m the Dark One, the scourge of the Fae and you summon me with your tiny mind.” It had to be tiny with how small and fragile she looked. She looked away from him, staring at the buttons glimmering in the firelight. 

“Is that what it is, then? You’re bored? Hm? Well you’re in for a good deal of disappointment, dearie. I’m not here to be your jester!” He pointed at her face and she cooed. “Good. Glad we could settle that.” 

The baby looked at him again, cocking her head as if she were sizing him up, little mouth pursed in thought. “What? I know what I look like. I’m a monster, see?!” He tried snarling at her. She smiled. “Oh. Wretched thing. You don’t look so good either, you know. Squishy little bag of bones and milk that you are. Look at you.” She kept smiling, a dimple in her pale cheek. He huffed. “Exactly. What would you want with a thing like me?” 

Rumple looked around the nursery again, at the delicate curtains and lush rugs, a little bed that wouldn’t be hers for some time dressed in yellow. This gold, scaly, sharp thing standing amidst it had no place here. A nightmare in something like a dream.

“What the hell am I doing here?” The baby girl gurgled and kicked her feet beneath her blanket. “Hey, I wasn’t asking you.” He growled. 

She smiled and kept kicking, knocking it clean off of her. “What did you do that for? You’re a nuisance. Naughty thing, aren’t you? Eh? That’s right, you stay quiet.” He huffed, covering her back up gingerly, afraid to touch her. She had other ideas, however, and wrapped her little fist around his finger. 

Lightning shot through him, rooting the girl into his mind and searing her name there. Belle. Belle was his, and gods he was hers. 

It terrified him. 

He jerked away, jostling the babe and her crib. 

The smile was slapped away in an instant, tense and confused, tears welling in her eyes. “Now, don’t--” 

She began to cry, clutching at empty air. The hurt and sadness resonated within him and he winced, confused and entirely out of his element. “Shh, shh, hey, hey,” he cooed, leaning over to let her hold his hand again, smiling at her. “It’s alright. It’s alright, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, shh... Here.” 

He blew on her mobile and the stars glittered to life, shining and swaying gently above her. Belle calmed, blinking at the stars, soothed. “There, see? Hush now, you rest. Go back to sleep. You won’t remember a bit of this anyway. Sleep, forget me…” He rocked her cradle, waiting until she’d finally fallen asleep to ease away from her again. 

The stars would shine only for her, only when she wanted them and that...would be the only gift he would give her. 

Good fairies keep watch over their charges forever, but he wasn’t a good fairy. He wasn’t even a real one, simply a half one. Why should he start this now? A foolish endeavor to find this girl her happy ending? No, she was far better off without his interference. A princess in a castle would have no need for him. 

No sooner did he take a step away from her crib the babe stirred again. She grunted and freed her arm from the blanket’s confines, reaching for him once more. “Little devil…” He sighed. He waved his hand, a little porcelain rattle in the shape of a rose appearing in his palm. He pressed it into hers, and she calmed again, gripping it tight. Rumple simply stood there, awed, watching her sleep a moment longer while she clutched it. 

“Goodbye, Belle,” he whispered, disappearing back to his own realm and his home within it. The constant buzzing from the babe would surely fade and go away when the Blue Fairy found her a more suitable godparent. 

He sat at his spinning wheel, turning it over, letting thread run across his fingers until the sensation of her tiny hand went away. Soon he would forget how complete he felt being close to her and doing things for her and things would go back to the way they were supposed to be. He convinced himself it would be nice to be alone again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumple attempts to ignore his charge, and fails entirely.

Rumple was good at keeping himself in trouble at the best of times. Over the following weeks, however, it was crucial that he do as much as possible to distract the other fairies from his new charge and do his best to keep them far, far away from little Belle, as well as himself. 

Miraculously, it worked. No one said a word about how he looked different or his presence had changed. Even the great Blue Fairy had nothing to say in regards to the babe he’d become attached to. This could be because he’d managed to allow another Ogre war to start by granting the wish of a tradesman whilst knowing he would be trespassing with his horde and goods right through Ogre territory. 

“Oopsie!” He giggled, watching the smoke start to rise on the horizon. “Suppose that made a wee bit of a mess, eh?” 

“You wicked monster!” Blue snarled, shooting a curse at him that he deftly blocked. “How dare you interfere this way! You knew exactly what you were doing, Rumplestiltskin, don’t play dumb with me!” 

“Oh, I’d never sink so low as to use such pretense,” he snickered. “But truly, no one else heeded the merchant’s wish, how was I to know where he’d be traveling to. Perhaps if he’d bartered with the beasts more cunningly--” 

Another bright blue curse shot from her wand and struck him square in the cheek, burning his flesh and tearing it open. He growled in anger, dark eyes staring daggers at her.

“Enough,” she said in a low voice. “Or that will be the least of your worries. Stay away from the human realm until I can get this sorted out. I don’t want your filth anywhere  _ near _ the remainder of this war you’ve begun. You break everything you touch, you create useless, mindless turmoil and for what? For what, Rumplestiltskin?” 

He laughed, a quiet, rough sound. “Why, to please you  _ mother. _ ” 

“Don’t call me that, I’ve told you not to call me that,” she commanded. “I will cut your tongue from your heinous mouth!” 

“But it’s true,” he assured. “The wee lad who made you pretty things is dead and gone. You killed him, with your harshness, your icy way about you. Flowers and healing weren’t good enough, useful enough… But doesn’t chaos keep you so busy?” 

She regarded him as one regards lint, twisting the grip on her wand. “Stay away from the human realm. Or else.” 

With that she disappeared and Rumple scoffed, shaking his head. “Why bother going there?” He muttered to himself, passing a hand over his cheek to heal his marred flesh. He plucked a kerchief from his pocket and began wiping the blood and blue ooze left from her anger. “Not as if there’s anything urgent to attend to.” 

Fate, as it were, had such a wonderful sense of irony and timing, that at that exact moment, the sound of his voice still clinging to the air, he felt a sharp pang of fear, pain, and deep, deep hurt. 

It could only come from one place and cut him this deeply. 

Without even thinking he disappeared from his home, traveling back to the place he promised to leave behind forever, panicked. 

Time was a tricky thing. Much like Magic and Fate, Time moved in strange ways from one realm to the next. In the land of fairies there was no need to age, therefore time was more of an abstract thing showing no real signs of wear on the fairies that dwealt within. Humans, however, were forced to succumb to every tick and passing of the sun without being able to help it. Their lives so fleeting, their days so short. 

Knowing all of this well, it shouldn’t have surprised Rumple that Belle was no longer the size of a loaf of bread. Now she was roughly the size of a vanity stool. 

The bassinet was gone, as were the squares of white cloth and clothespins, most of the rattles and other infantile things not needed by the girl any longer. The bed was dressed in yellow still, adorned with a few choice stuffed animals and a handmade blanket he recognized as the one she’d been wrapped in when they met. 

The mobile he’d enchanted for her hung above the bed still, clearly loved and cherished. The wardrobe was now filled with little gowns and slippers of varying colors, a drawer of ribbons and tiny lace gloves and stockings at its bottom. 

As before, it was night. A few candles burned, the moon high, the hour late, but Belle was not asleep. She was positioned at the door of her room, crying brokenly, and trying to force the locked handle to obey her. In her free arm was a thick book nearly taking up her entire chest entitled  _ Her Handsome Hero. _

“Mama!” She sobbed, so hurt and confused. “Mama, book!” 

“Oi!” A sharp voice snapped on the other side, muffled and unseen. “I’ve told you, your mummy an’ papa have gone off! They won’t be back for days yet, do you hear me? Go to sleep! You’re a big girl, you can get yourself ready! I’m done with ya!” 

“Ma-!” 

“I said go to SLEEP!” 

There was a sharp rap on the door that startled the tot and she fell on her bottom, the book clunking next to her. She whimpered and picked it up, cooing to it. “Sorry, sorry…” 

She was still fully dressed but messy. Her hair hadn’t been combed, her dress dirty from play, and crying had made her face ruddy and raw. She looked exhausted and very pained, clearly unable to sleep without a story read to her, which was all she knew to about her bedtime routine. She was much too small to do the rest all on her own. 

Belle continued to cry helplessly, hugging the book as tight as her little arms would allow, uncomfortable, upset and unable to do anything about it. 

Rumple simply couldn’t take it any longer. 

“Now, now!” He said, still several feet behind her, cursing himself when she jumped and squeaked in fear, turning to look at him. “What good are those tears, eh?” 

Belle looked at him for a moment, then at the book, then back at him. She stood abruptly, leaving the book on the rug and ran to a corner of her room, coming back with a wooden sword that she brandished at him clumsily. “Go ‘way!” She seemed confident with it, having slain many a monster under beds and in closets with the sword whom she called ‘Ward’ in her tinny of an accent. 

He pursed his lips and pointed at her. “Now what are you going to do with that, eh? Give me a splinter? Come now--” 

A half-step was taken before the girl lunged at him and smacked the wooden blade across his knuckles. “Ow!” He barked, glaring at her. “That wasn’t very nice, you little miscreant you!” 

“Go ‘way!” She repeated, stance firm, determination set in her bright eyes. 

The fairy huffed, looking down at his little charge who was ready to bludgeon him with a toy without so much as crying out for help. The little one was set on handling this herself, and Rumple was certain if it came to it she’d certainly put a dent in harming him. 

“Belle,” he sighed. “I’m only trying to--” She swung the toy wide, smacking him in the leg. However she lost her footing and stumbled, hitting the little table holding her tea set. It wobbled, sending a cup tumbling to the floor, where it cracked. 

She gasped, tears filling her eyes and she dropped beside it, sword and Rumple forgotten. “I broke it…” She whimpered, turning it over in her little hands, trying to put the broken piece back into it. “I broke it, I broke it…” 

Rumple softened, kneeling in front of her, trying to meet her gaze. “It’s just a cup,” he assured, trying to make her feel better. 

“It’s chipped!” Her lips trembled. 

He reached for her, stopping immediately when she flinched away from him. He frowned. “I, I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I’m sorry about your teacup, but if you’d only--”

“Go ‘way!” Belle shouted abruptly, grabbing up the sword again and aiming it at him. The fairy had been caught kneeling with the sharpest end of the toy at his throat, and he nearly laughed at the absurdity of this. “Stran’er go ‘way!” 

“I’m not a stranger-- Ow! Stop that! Ow!” Belle had jabbed him twice, once on accident, the next because he startled her the first time. 

“Alright! Alright,” he gentled, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m not here to harm you, dearie. I’m here to help you.” 

“Help?” She lowered the toy a bit, eyes trained on his every feature as if to suss out any deceit. Rumple was sincere, of course, and admittedly awed by her still. 

Her eyes hadn’t changed. There was still so much light in them, as if stars had been born simply to be put there. She had a knowing to her now, an understanding she’d been skirting at their first meeting. He could feel her kindness through them, her care, and he knew it would grow with her. So bright, glittering, curious and...and agonizingly hopeful. His chest clenched. 

“Y-yes, Belle. I’m here to help you. I...I’m a dream. I’m here to take away the nightmares so you can rest. Is that alright?” He asked, cautiously lowering his hands.

Slowly, the tiny girl relinquished the pine blade and set it on the ornate hope chest at the foot of her bed. She hadn’t looked away from him yet, a little pinch in her brow, but the suspicion had changed to something else. The princess appeared to be attempting to place him, as if she knew his face, knew something about him she couldn’t exactly place. 

It dawned on her then, lighting up her face and she tore the chest open, plunging inside and digging so that she nearly fell inside completely. 

“What are you doing? Going to find a toy bow to strike me with? Eh?” He chuckled.

Belle withdrew apparently empty-handed, no other weapon to speak of as he’d predicted. She stepped up to him and opened her hand to show him what she’d recovered.

The rattle. 

“Help?” She repeated. 

His lips parted in surprise, looking between them briefly before keeping his eyes on her. 

She shouldn’t remember him. Not for a moment should she remember who he was and yet...there was the toy he’d gifted her in her tiny palm, her hope swollen in her chest.

“Aye,” he nodded, smiling more. “I gave you that to help you, dearie. You were much smaller then. Just as brave, too.” 

Relief flooded them both, and she carefully put the rattle back. She looked at him shyly for a moment, shaking a little before rushing to him. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, seeking safety and comfort she desperately needed.

Rumple paused, hesitating to touch her just as he had before. She was so small and she felt so fragile. He already broke everything he touched, as the Blue Fairy had said, and if he broke Belle or hurt her in any way it would kill him. He was sure of that. 

But he’d never been embraced like this. Blue would never dream of coddling him so and her idea of maternal love was not mocking him for more than an hour. He was treated as repulsive, as a disease, a thing and not a being with a heart. At least until now. 

Very slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, sparking that bond within them again. He held onto her, starved for affection he’d no idea existed.

He couldn’t imagine the roughness of his skin or his clothes were a comfort to her and he tried to shy away from her. Belle was having none of it, however, and held firm, little fingers in his curls. “No. Please help.” 

“A-alright,” he whispered, hardly able to process all this. How was it that this little thing, this itsy human could literally bring him to his knees? How did she manage to bewitch him without an ounce of magic at her disposal? He would have time to think on that later. For now, she needed his help. “Alright, I will.” Rumple looked down at her, at the welts high on her legs and the ghost of a bruise on her cheek. A sickening feeling blossomed in his gut, forced now to ask something he already knew the answer to. “Belle, does your nursemaid strike you?” 

She sniffled, shifting her legs a little but didn’t look up. She nodded. “‘M bad girl. Bad Belle.” 

Rage, sudden and frothing, broiled deep inside of him. This innocent babe didn’t ever deserve to be struck, she could never do anything to warrant that. He knew her too well, was too aware of her thoughts and feelings to know that she’d ever do anything knowingly malicious. 

Someone who was to care for her while her parents were away was harming her. He knew people like that often harmed children even when others were near, they simply kept it secret and bullied the child into keeping quiet. 

She gave the tiniest sob, bringing him back, and he hugged her more securely, gently cupping the back of her head. He allowed the healing magic he’d been using for centuries to flow through her and soothe her aches and pains. “No, Belle. You’re not bad. Believe me, I know what a bad person looks like and you?” He tipped her chin up. “Are a very, very good girl.” 

Another sniffle, big tears rolling down her cheeks as she smiled, just a little. 

“Now, let’s get you ready for bed, eh?” 

He flicked his wrist and Belle was no longer in her dirty dress, but rather in a soft pink sleeping gown and her white robe. She loosened her arms and looked down at herself, eyes wide. “Magic,” she grinned. He smiled back, tapping her nose. 

“Magic.” He plucked her off the ground and sat on the bed with her, carefully brushing her hair. With fingers made especially nimble from spinning and the lightest touch of magic, he worked through her tangles without causing her an ounce of harm. He twisted her hair into a delicate braid, humming a lullaby that would soothe her rattled nerves. 

“There now,” he breathed, washing her face with a cool rag. “Is that better, dearie?” 

“Better,” she agreed, blinking sleepily. 

Rumple carefully lied her down and tucked her in, placing her book on the bedside table and tucking her stuffed bear into her arms.

“Pretty ‘tar,” she babbled, looking up at her mobile happily. The imp laughed softly, watching her dazzled expression with his own. 

“That’s right. No more nightmares, Belle. Only good dreams for the rest of the night.” He brushed his thumb along her forehead to ensure this. “And when you wake? Things will be all the better.” 

He stood to go, but she was far quicker, grabbing his finger in her little fist. “Not yet,” she pleaded, quivering. He softened, unable to deny her, and returned to his seat. 

“Alright. Alright, I’ll stay until you fall asleep, hm?” She nodded, satisfied, and closed her eyes, still holding onto him. “Little devil,” he muttered. He waited until he was absolutely sure she was asleep before carefully edging out of her grip, pressing the rattle into her hand as a substitute. 

The gentle child cooed and turned over on her side, lost to quiet dreams that filled her with the warmth and happiness she deserved. He tucked her blanket around her, smoothing her hair again. 

“Please forget me this time,” he mumbled. “I’ll only bring you darkness.” 

He quickly looked about, as if someone might see, then bent and kissed her hair before disappearing. A certain someone needed to be dealt with. 

Belle would never know what became of Ms. Ratchet. All she knew was the next morning after the soothing dreams she was gone, and now Miss Anna was to take care of her all the time. She was very happy for that. Miss Anna was much, much kinder and never so much as raised her voice to her, let alone struck her. 

The child always felt that there was something near her to keep her safe, watching her, guarding her. She didn’t have a name for it, but sometimes she could picture something...something gold and sweet… Despite how fuzzy any details might be, she never forgot about that something. 

Which left Rumplestiltskin wondering again how his charge just happened to be the most irksome, lovely little beast ever known.


End file.
